Fixer for the Billionaire: A Spicy Billionaire Romantic Comedy (Seattle's Anderson Family)

Chapter 31

CARMINA

”Jenny, I swear, if I have to try on one more dress that cinches, pinches, or squishes, I”m showing up in pajama pants and a fuzzy hat,” I grumble into the phone, kicking off my shoes at the door.

The foyer is clean, a far cry from the chaos of two weeks ago. Even the madness of being in the homestretch—a week away from Jenny”s wedding and just days from Danity”s ”Love in Seattle” release—feels more manageable.

The frenzy of fittings, tastings, and last-minute details has calmed down. All except one detail that makes me ready to turn in my maid-of-honor badge.

Especially since it”s movie night tonight and I”m already late for our new weekly ritual.

Jenny”s laughter crackles through the speaker. ”Don”t you dare! You”ll ruin our perfectly coordinated bridesmaids” outfits.”

”Ugh, don”t remind me. How did I let you talk me into wearing a neon pink ruffled dress?”

”I couldn”t make up my mind! But it”s fashion forward and secretly your favorite color,” she reasons.

”I”m pretty sure it was just a ploy to make everyone focus on how ridiculous I look instead of on you—the bride. Clever move, Jen. I”d badger you about being pregnant with all these fashion mood swings, but I saw your moves at the bachelor-bachelorette party. No way you were pregnant doing that split on the dance floor,” I tease, heading toward the living room.

”Ha ha... very funny.” She pauses. ”But actually, I”ve been meaning to tell you something...”

”If you say there”s a tutu attached, I will come over Liam Neeson style. I have no problem—oh crap.” I pause as I round the corner into the living room. ”The girls are already set up. I gotta go.”

”Wait, what about my news?!” Jenny protests.

”Trust me: I want to hear all about it. And I will, after the movie. Love you, Jen!”

I quickly hang up and toss my phone onto the couch where Gabi and Val are already settled, remotes in hand and TV on.

Next to Val”s newly-crafted fanny pack EpiPen holder, Pork Chop, the newly adopted ball of orange fur and sass, is curled up on my eleven-year-old sister”s lap, looking far too innocent for the horror promising to unfold onscreen.

I lift a brow. ”The Shining? Really? Are we trying to ensure none of us sleep tonight?”

”It”s the unedited version.” Gabi throws a popcorn kernel at me. ”Come on, Carmina. It”s a classic! Plus, Pork Chop hasn”t seen it yet. We figured it”s about time.”

Val, looking up with wide, innocent eyes behind her big glasses, chimes in. ”Pork Chop needs to know what kind of bravery is required to be part of this family.”

I point at the ball of orange fur in her lap. ”If that cat starts hissing at empty hallways, I”m blaming all of you.” The smell of something delicious from the kitchen draws my attention. ”Speaking of bravery, which one of you is making dinner?”

”Well... why don”t you go check out the kitchen?” Gabi suggests.

Val nods in agreement. ”Yes, go see for yourself.”

I narrow my eyes suspiciously before walking towards the kitchen, curiosity getting the best of me.

As I round the corner, I”m met with a table set for four and a delicious aroma wafting from the stove. Standing in front of the stove is Quentin, completely in his element.

The sleeves of his collared shirt are rolled up to his elbows, his sandy golden hair tousled from cooking. He looks up and grins at me, revealing a dimple that makes my heart skip a beat.

”You”re home early,” he comments, turning back to stir the pot on the stove.

I lean against the counter, watching him work. ”Clearly not early enough. At least I beat Freddie here.” I peek into the pan in his hand. ”What”s this?”

”Homemade carbonara. Recipe courtesy of Sopra. I figured it was time for me to contribute something other than my good looks,” he teases. ”Here. Taste.” Extending a wooden spoon towards me, he waits expectantly.

I take a bite, tasting the sauce. As soon as it touches my tongue, I moan in pleasure. ”Wow, this is amazing. You”re amazing.” I pause, admiring him openly. “And thank you.”

”For what?”

”I saw Val”s new fanny pack holder for her EpiPen in the living room. It”s perfect, Quentin.”

”It”s a pouch, not a fanny pack. And yeah, it”s the least I could do for her. Plus, it keeps me from panicking every time we go out to eat.”

”Well, she loves it. And you.”

”Same here,” he winks, placing a kiss on my cheek before turning back to the stove. ”And don”t thank me. Thank our party consultant-slash-event planner-slash-fortune-teller-slash-tailor Glitter. Did you know she sews her own clothes?”

”I could have guessed that.” Slipping my arms around his side, I peek under his shoulder. ”Smells like you”re trying to make me forget about today”s fitting fiasco by being charming and swoony.”

Putting down the spoon and washing his hands, Quentin finally turns fully in my arms, a smirk playing on his lips. ”Is it working?” he asks, pulling me closer.

”Definitely.”

Grinning, Quentin lets his hands roam down to my waist, pulling me tighter. ”Well, I”m glad I could be of service.” He leans in. ”In fact, I”ve been thinking about servicing you all day. If you give me a moment of your time, I could do it properly too.”

His hand lowers, playing with the hem of my black skirt, and I shiver in anticipation. ”I think I can spare a few moments,” I whisper, leaning in for a kiss.

The scent of garlic and butter mixes with Quentin”s cologne as our lips meet. His hands roam freely now, and I let out a sigh of contentment. This is exactly what I needed after a long day.

A good movie. An even better meal. And my man.

In moments like this, when we”re completely lost in each other, I know I couldn”t have asked for anything more.

As we break for air, Quentin smiles. ”I think I”d like a taste, too.”

”You should. The carbonara”s great. You really nailed it.”

”Not the carbonara.” His green eyes burn, and as he leans in for a kiss, I hear the front door open.

The sound of footsteps towards the kitchen soon follows, and Freddie”s voice breaks the moment as she steps into the doorway.

“Wow, having a key to your place makes things so much easier. Hey guys, I made it for movie night! Sorry I”m late!” She pauses as she takes in our embrace. ”Am I interrupting something?”

We quickly pull away, laughing awkwardly. ”No, not at all,” Quentin says smoothly. ”Just making dinner.”

”Ah, smells great as always. I brought my famous chocolate chip cookies for dessert,” Freddie says, setting the bag on the kitchen counter. “No pistachios. Or any nuts, I promise.”

Quentin kisses the top of my head as Freddie starts to unpack. ”I”ll go check on the girls,” he tells me. His voice lowers. ”I want that taste when I get back.”

He leaves, and my face heats, a flutter taking root in my stomach. ”I”ll be waiting.”

As Quentin heads out of the kitchen, Freddie shoots me a grin as she meticulously unpacks the bag, setting out the plates and utensils with flair. ”Hope I didn”t break up anything too scandalous. I mean, if I”m interrupting, just imagine me as part of the decor. A very vocal vase, perhaps?”

”We were just cooking dinner.”

”Yeah, yeah, sure you were. If I had walked in a minute later, I bet I”d have found you two recreating the spaghetti scene from ”Lady and the Tramp” with carbonara.” As she lines up her homemade cookies like soldiers on parade, Freddie”s tone shifts to something more reflective. ”You know,” she starts, not looking up, ”I”ve been mulling over what you said about me always playing the ”professional sidekick” and finding my own calling. Got me thinking... I”ve even started making a list.”

”Oh? And what”s at the top of this list?”

Without missing a beat, she announces, ”I”ve decided to become a live-in nanny.”

The room fills with a brief but potent silence before I burst into laughter, thinking it”s another one of her jokes. But Freddie”s expression is dead serious.

”No, really. Think about it,” she continues, ”free lodging, endless food, access to snacks at all hours, and thanks to working for the Andersons, I now have connections to half the billionaires on the West Coast.”

”A nanny, huh? That’s quite the career pivot. And you, surrounded by kids and their snacks? Sounds like a dream.”

Freddie nods, handing me an array of cookies like playing cards. ”Exactly. Who wouldn”t want to get paid for building LEGO castles and making sure the kids don”t put forks in the toaster? And get this—you”ll never guess who my first potential gig is with...”

I lean in, captivated by the buildup. ”Who?”

”Ryder and Jenny. You know, now that they”re expecting.”

The cookies I”m arranging on the plate clatter as her words sink in. ”Wait, what?” My voice is an octave higher, disbelief etched into every syllable. ”Jenny’s pregnant? What? How—I mean, when?”

“Very recently from the looks of things.”

“And you knew before me?” My voice goes shrill. “Her Maid of Honor?”

Freddie shrugs, a guilty yet sheepish smile spreading across her face. ”Surprise?”

I”m shocked into silence. The phone call with Jenny just twenty minutes ago. She tried to tell me something, but I cut her off.

”I—I...” I stammer as Freddie grabs my shoulders.

”Look at me. It”s okay. It”s all okay. You”re going to be an auntie.” Her blue gaze drills into mine. ”Right?”

”Uh, right.”

My eyes start filling with tears of happiness, as Freddie places a plate of cookies in my hands.

”No, no, no,” she directs, repositioning my hands and the plate. ”No crying until after the movie. We”re going to watch whatever blood-and-guts movie your sisters have put on and we”re stuffing our faces with these delicious cookies. This is a happy night.”

She pushes me slowly through the kitchen, towards the living room, and with one free hand, I wipe my eyes, nodding and smiling through the tears.

The sight of Quentin, Gabi, Val, and a mended Pork Chop—the building blocks who make up my world—sprawled out on the couch hits me right in the chest, making my heart swell.

And now, a new addition on the way.

I couldn”t ask for anything more.

”You”re right.” I nod at Freddie, placing a hand over hers on my shoulder. ”You”re absolutely right. Best night ever.”

I reach Quentin, passing him the plate of cookies, before settling teary-eyed into his arms, the opening credits beginning to roll over the TV screen.